Be afraid
by Tehri
Summary: Alfred has found a game that is supposed to be terrifying, but he doesn't want to play it when he's alone. What to do? Call Arthur, of course! / / Rated T for quite a few curses.


**_Random as hell, but it was begging to be written... ^^' Anyways, I hope you'll enjoy this, and remember, reviews are love, because they'll help me perfect my writing skills! :D_**

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Alfred hesitated again; he had gotten this game almost four hours ago, and he still wasn't certain about if he should actually try it. He had heard so many things about that it was supposed to be scary, the scariest game currently on the market. He _wanted_ to play it, but after looking at a review on YouTube, he just didn't feel so sure about doing it alone.

"Come on now, Al," he muttered to himself. "Just play it already. It's just a game. Can't hurt ya... Just... Ah, fuck it, I can't do this..."

He stared at his cell phone for a while, pondering his different options. There would be a conference in two days, and other nations had already started to arrive. Kiku was there, of course, but he would most likely be busy. Matthew would be arriving later, but he would most likely be too tired. Gilbert, Francis and Antonio were out of the question (why was Gilbert there, anyway?). In fact, there was only one person he could think of that would probably (grudgingly) agree to come over. With a sigh, he dialled the familiar number. He didn't really want it to come to this, but he could _not_ play this game on his own. And having someone who was generally calm about things like this around would help. Especially someone who wasn't afraid to tell him to stop screaming. One signal, two, three, four, five...

"Ah, hell, come _on_, you old-"

"Who the bloody hell are you calling old?"

"... Oh, hey, Iggy. Uh... I just wanted to ask ya something." Not a good idea to annoy the older nation if he wanted something, he had to keep that in mind at all times. "That is, if you have time, I mean, I don't wanna impose or anything..."

Arthur sighed, and Alfred could hear the rustling of papers.

"One, don't call me by that repulsive nickname again, you airheaded heap of lard," the Englishman muttered. "Two, I am a little busy, I still haven't finished everything for the presentation, and-"

"So bring it over, then! It's not like you haven't done work over here before, ya know! Just... You know, it's been a while, and... It'd be nice to have you over...?" He knew that hesitation laced every syllable in that last sentence, but it wasn't because he thought that Arthur would be unbearable (all in all, he loved to have the Brit around, especially since they started dating); rather, it was because he knew how the older man didn't like to be disturbed. "Just if you want to..."

Another sigh.

"Alfred, you already told me that you had to concentrate on the conference and didn't want me around," Arthur said softly. "Why are you asking me to come over now? I thought that you wanted to work on your presentation alone."

"Well, yeah, but... you know... I need distractions every now and then, and I heard 'bout this new game... 's supposed to be pretty scary... And... uh... You know, could you just come over? You can work if you wanna, I just... I mean..."

Arthur chuckled; of course he understood what was wrong now. Alfred acted just like this whenever he wanted to watch a scary movie but didn't want to be alone. Although the American kept babbling about being a "hero", he did sometimes need someone else to... protect him. The situations were rarely dangerous, of course, but still amusing.

"Alright, alright, I'll be there. Just give me a little while, alright?"

Alfred had dragged his computer into the living room and set it up on the coffee table, leaving only just enough space for Arthur's paperwork. The Englishman came into the room, watching curiously as the blonde man checked every single cable to make sure that it would work properly.

"Do you really have to use that monster of a computer," he asked with a sigh and sat down. "Wouldn't your laptop be better?"

"But I need a really good wide screen for this," Alfred whined, peering up at the green-eyed British nation. "I mean, it makes it so much better!"

It was no use to try to argue about this; in Arthur's eyes, Alfred was quite an oddball when it came to things like this, and they had argued about it before (but only because the American kept trying to make Arthur get a bigger and more expensive TV that he truly didn't need). Of course, the lad hadn't won those arguments before, but he didn't stop trying, and Arthur didn't stop him from buying things for himself (he'd never admit that they had argued about that too once, but that was during the recession, and the American really shouldn't have spent so much when he knew what a state the economy was in – and Alfred had won the argument). So instead of saying anything, the Englishman merely sighed again, picked up his papers and began to read through them.

The American stretched as he stood up and peered at the older man, a smile slowly appearing on his lips again. This was ideal, wasn't it? If only they could have it like this all the time, every day... But of course, for nations this was impossible. He shrugged lightly and sat down next to the Brit, quickly turning on the computer. Arthur had promised that he would stay with Alfred for at least a week after the conference was over, and although it didn't feel like that was enough, he was happy with that arrangement. He let out a low hum, imitating the sound of the computer's air intake fan, and got elbowed in the ribs for the trouble.

"Can't you even start the computer without being noisy," Arthur muttered silently before returning to his work, not even glancing at the apologetic grin on the lad's face. "No manners whatsoever..."

"Aw, come on, Artie, I was just humming!"

"You're really aiming to be an annoying git, aren't you?"

The suddenly pouting American moved closer, wrapping an arm around his lover's waist.

"Come on," he said softly. "I didn't mean to bother you..."

Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed, swatting lightly at the younger man's hand (which had slowly been sliding down around his hip). Of course the lad meant well, but he couldn't deny that most of his actions brought to mind a disorder of some sort.

"Just get on with it, you git, and let me get back to work," he replied, turning a page. "As long as you don't disturb me too much..."

Although he was trying to concentrate on his work, Arthur began to glance at the screen every now and then, frowning as he saw the name of the game Alfred insisted on playing.

"_Amnesia: The Dark Descent_," he read out loud, a frown forming on his face. "What sort of a ridiculous name is that?"

Always eager to comply, Alfred answered the question (although it hadn't even been a real question, a fact that he, as always, ignored).

"Just a pretty awesome name that describes the game perfectly," he grinned. "Ya see, you play as a guy who's got amnesia, right, and you have to work your way through a castle, finding notes and stuff, you know, from yourself before you lost your memory, and you gotta kill this creepy evil guy who is in a place that's really hard to get to, and-"

"Fine, I get it... So it's basically like any other game."

"No, it's not! I just told ya, you've got amnesia, and you meet monsters and stuff, and you can't even kill them 'cause you don't have any weapons, so ya gotta-"

"Hold on a moment, did you just say that you won't have anything to defend yourself with?"

"Yeah, it sorta makes the game harder, at least I think so, 'cause Kiku told me that the monsters can, like, kill you with just a blow or two, so-"

"That's just ridiculous! Do they have bloody swords as claws?"

"Dude, no, I don't think so, I mean, they're just that strong, and you can't even SEE some of them-"

"Just how bloody ridiculous is this game anyway? An unarmed man with amnesia who is told by someone-"

"He wrote a note to himself before the amnesia."

"Told by bloody random _note_ to kill another man, encounters monsters along the way that he can't defend himself against, so he is most likely to die horribly in the castle, although it is a wonder how he hasn't already died... Honestly, can't they think of something _original_?"

"Dude, it _is_ original!"

Arthur groaned loudly. No more questions... He'd just let the brat play his game.

"I don't _care_, Alfred," he grumbled. "Just let me work now."

Blue eyes stared intently at him for a moment before turning back to the screen.

"You were the one who started by commenting," Alfred mumbled, a hint of a challenge in his voice. "But sure, you get back to work."

Even before he started the game, Arthur noticed that Alfred was a little bit nervous and jumpy, made apparent by how he quickly glanced to the side every time the Brit let out a low sigh. And yet he was just following a trail of... _something_ through a corridor. But the noises in the game were, admittedly, rather scary, and he smirked at how Alfred almost jumped every time the wind howled or a door creaked open.

"It's just the wind," Arthur muttered when the American let out a low squeak once. "For crying out loud, don't be so jumpy."

This continued for a little while until Alfred had managed to find the castle's entrance hall. A flashback started where they got to hear Daniel, the main character, speak with a man called Alexander, and Arthur looked up, frowning slightly. He had to admit, the voice-actors chosen for the game were rather talented...

"Oh god, that freaked me out..." Alfred stared at the screen, looking positively mortified. "That was..."

"Shut up and get on with it."

He continued working, trying hard to concentrate on what he had to get done before the conference, but it was getting increasingly difficult when Alfred muttered comments to himself over and over again.

"O-okay... So... Refinery's been closed off by... slime. And I gotta find something else now... Uhm... Okay, what if I go down here... Wine cellar? Oh, locked, okay... Agh, I don't like this darkness... Over here, then..."

When a strange "growling" noise could be heard and the American whimpered loudly, Arthur finally looked up again, seeing that the character was now in a dark room that looked a bit like a cellar; there was some rubble that had closed off what had probably once been a doorway, but it seemed that the growling came from there. But instead of remaining there any longer, Alfred chose to move over to the open doorway on the other side of the room, head down a narrow stair and step into a small dark room. He whimpered again when footsteps could be heard, above them this time.

"Oh my fucking god, there's something there...!"

"For God's sake, Alfred, will you be quiet? It's most likely nowhere near you; you're quite far below the entrance to this place, are you not?"

With a deep breath (obviously trying to regain some composure), Alfred glanced at the older man and began to explore the room. There was a strange metal frame barring a hole in the floor, and once he actually looked down, he saw water. And he saw splashes in the water that indicated that something was walking down there. Trying hard not to make another noise, he quickly moved away.

"Tinderboxes and oil," he mumbled. "Let's just try to find tinderboxes and oil..."

When another flashback occurred, he stared intently at the screen for a few seconds, clearly paying careful attention to what was being said, before moving again to see if he could find something indicating where he ought to go.

"There's a note on that desk," Arthur commented calmly, breaking the brief silence. "If you didn't notice."

The American mumbled "I knew that" before quickly beginning to read the note.

"What," he suddenly called out, looking slightly frustrated. "Chemicals moved to the wine cellar? But that's locked! Oh, come on!"

The Brit sighed deeply and put down the papers; there was no way he was going to be able to work when the git was being so noisy.

_I really should've learnt my lesson last time_, he thought bitterly, remembering when Alfred had managed to trick him into playing "Left 4 Dead" an entire night instead of working... _Should just have told him that I couldn't come..._

"Alright, fine," he grumbled. "Look here, Alfred. If the chemicals you need... What do you need them for anyway?"

"Uhm... To create some sorta acid."

"Ah. Well, if the chemicals you need have been moved to the wine cellar, which is now locked, then you obviously have to find a way to get in. A key, maybe."

"But that could be anywhere!"

"So go fetch, you idiot. If it could be anywhere, then you just have to look for it, because it must be in one of the areas available via the entrance hall, right?"

Alfred grumbled reluctantly, but slowly left the room and headed back to the entrance hall. Arthur watched intently now, eyeing the surroundings curiously. He had to admit that it was quite well made (at least it was so far), and it seemed that they had a fairly good grasp of basic architecture, judging by how the castle looked.

The following half hour or so was spent with exploring another area, the Archives. There were several things in there that made Alfred let out a shriek or whimper loudly, and that made Arthur mumble reassuring words to the American (and to himself) that mainly consisted of "there is nothing there, just continue". They managed to find the key they had been looking for, as well as tinderboxes and lantern oil and a few diary entries. As they found out more about the castle and Daniel, Arthur found himself reluctantly admitting that things had been planned rather well. He also admitted to himself that some elements were a little more than just disturbing; not only had they heard someone play the piano at random times, even though nothing was there, but when they had almost reached the door that led to the entrance hall, there was a loud growling noise nearby, and Alfred had let out a low squeak (though of course he didn't admit to that) and made a run for it. Now, they were in the wine cellar, searching for the chemicals needed to make the acid.

As soon as they had entered this area, Alfred made it clear that he did _not_ want to do this, and that he needed a break; although the Englishman thought that he was being a little childish, he patted the lad's shoulder and took over; the controls weren't that hard to learn, and soon he was sneaking through room after room, exploring every single one thoroughly to make sure that he didn't miss anything. He also made sure to close the doors after him, just in case. The odd noises didn't scare him as much as they seemed to scare Alfred, but he couldn't deny that he was feeling increasingly nervous. At one point, just in the beginning, he got trapped in a small room when an earthquake caused part of the ceiling to cave in, and for a moment he felt almost grateful for this small pause.

"Fuck, is this it?" Alfred sounded disbelieving when he spoke. "Stuck in a room like this? How the fuck should we get out?"

"We clear the way, of course," Arthur suggested, raising an eyebrow as he leant back. "In a moment. I need to think a little bit."

The American frowned.

"What's there to think about," he asked. "You get the chemicals and get the hell out. We've already got one, so let's just grab the others."

Green eyes threw a sharp glance at the younger man, who quickly shut his mouth. He knew better than to argue, although he did sometimes forget about it; the Englishman preferred to have a solid plan, even when he played games, while Alfred normally decided to "just wing it", as he normally expressed it.

"They're hardly in here, Alfred," he said slowly, as if speaking to a child. "Think a little. They must be somewhere in the other rooms, and we need to search there too, no matter how scary it is. Now... How high do you think the chance is to... encounter something down here?"

After a short discussion, they decided that it was time to move on. Arthur moved the rocks and the wooden beams that blocked the door, and then left it to move on. He was being careful, only using the lantern when he really needed it, and he wouldn't waste too many tinderboxes. As he progressed, Alfred moved closer to him until their sides were pressed against each other, although neither of them paid much heed to this; they were concentrating on the game, listening carefully.

Every now and then, Arthur would stop and crouch in a dark corner, carefully watching nearby doorways. But soon enough, once they had picked up yet another chemical, something appeared near the doorway they had come from. Alfred let out a whimpering noise, and Arthur, practically _feeling_ how blood drained from his face, drew back and crouched in a corner, trying not to turn directly towards whatever it was. It had the shape of a man, and yet not, and his instincts told him that he didn't want to know exactly what it was either.

"Oh god," Alfred whispered. "Oh fuck... Wh-what _was_ that?"

Arthur shook his head quickly.

"I don't know," he muttered. "And frankly, I don't really care. W-we're almost done down here, so we should be able to get out soon..."

He mentally cursed the slight stutter; he had no reason to be scared. It was just a bloody game, nothing else! It was quite another thing to be alone in a dark forest at night and let the imagination run wild, but now when he was in his own lover's house in a rather crowded (but calm) area, he just didn't have a good reason to be worried at all.

Once whatever-it-was had disappeared (into the thin air, too, which made them both feel rather uncomfortable), they moved along. Soon they had found all the chemicals and every single tinderbox and bottle of lantern oil there could possibly be, and they headed out from the cellar. Back in the laboratory, they managed to create the acid, and only had a minor incident with the stairs up to the door collapsing; getting up and out wasn't difficult.

Soon enough they were in the refinery. The flashback that occurred when they entered made Arthur shiver lightly.

"_It sure is dark in here_," said the voice that they easily identified as the voice of Daniel.

"_Yes, and there's a good reason for it_," replied the voice of Alexander. "_But you can light the lamp now, if you wish._"

"_What is the reason? The darkness, that is..._"

"_Stay close. Be careful not to stray._"

"_What is the reason?_" Daniel sounded just a little bit worried as he spoke. "_Why is it so dark?_"

"_Pay attention, Daniel_," came the sharp reply. "_It is important that you keep going straight and make sure not to stray._"

Normally, Arthur wouldn't have reacted to this, but it really was dark, and as the only things he could hear were the noises in the game and Alfred's soft whimpering, he felt almost as if he was hiding from guards somewhere, his heart beginning to beat faster and faster. He bit his lip and glanced at the American again.

"Perhaps you should take over," he suggested. "You've had a long enough break..."

Alfred stared at him as if he had suddenly gone mad, but reluctantly admitted that it was only fair to switch every now and then, even though the Brit was significantly calmer than he was. They switched place, and Alfred slowly began to move forward again, mumbling to himself every now and then. As he reached a room with large barrels, he saw something move in the next room, and with a loud squeak, he crouched down and hid behind a barrel.

"I hate you," he hissed and glared at Arthur. "You _knew_ that it was there!"

"How should I know," Arthur asked, looking quite insulted. "I don't know anything about this game, you idiot!"

"But you-"

"Just keep moving, alright?"

Once the Thing (as Alfred had begun to call it in his thoughts) was gone, he slowly moved into the next room, trying to take it slow. He shivered slightly, but continued to move.

They didn't encounter anything else in there, but they managed to find a trapdoor, and after some work to remove a stick that was jamming the pulley (in fact, they concluded that they had to break it somehow), they managed to continue to the next area.

Alfred barely managed to register that they were once again in a cellar (the cellar archives, to be precise) and started to run forward before he suddenly squeaked again; water had started to fill up the room, and following the sole instinct that reached him, he jumped up on a nearby box, just in time. Splashes in the water could be seen, but not made by him. There was a low growl, and the American stared for a moment.

"Is that an invisible monster," he said, sounding quite incredulous. "Seriously? How the fuck are we supposed to get anywhere now?"

Arthur frowned slightly.

"It's not attacking you," he said slowly. "But it came towards you when you stepped in the water. Take out the lantern and let's have a look."

Alfred hesitated for a short moment, but then did as he was told; it seemed that the entire area had been flooded, but there were seemingly boxes that one could jump on to move forward.

"Right," he mumbled. "Okay. So... the boxes, then. I still don't get how we're gonna get out." He hesitated again, glancing at Arthur. "... Please, can we take a break now? I think I need something to drink, or whatever..."

The break they took wasn't nearly long enough for the American's taste. Had he been playing it alone, he would most likely have turned the game off and under the sheets in his bed, preferably with a gun close at hand just in case monsters were real (which they weren't, but his brain refused to listen to such flawless American logic when he was terrified). But as it was now, Arthur was apparently interested in what was going to happen, so they continued on.

* * *

"Oh my f- Is that a dog's head?"

"It would appear so."

"How the hell are you _not_ disturbed by this?"

"Who the hell says I'm not?"

"Oh come on, Arthur, you don't even bat an eye!"

"Oh, so the nails that have been digging into your arm all the time aren't mine, then?"

"... So you're scared?"

"Good lord, Alfred, are you _surprised_ about that? I've seen horrible things in my lifetime, but I sincerely doubt that even _my_ nerves were made for something like this."

"Want to hide somewhere?"

"No."

"Aw..."

"It's only a game. It's not like we'll get physically hurt."

"No, but mentally."

"I'll take the risk. We've fought in several wars, and we're still alright, so I won't let a stupid _game_ beat me."

* * *

"Oh my god! Back to the pig room, back to the pig room!"

"Fuck you, Iggy, why the fuck did you have to open that door?"

"Me? _You_ opened it! I'm not the one at the controls right now!"

"You told me to!"

"Like that matters! You have a will of your own, you could have refused to open it!"

* * *

"C-cell area...?"

"Oh, great... A dungeon..."

"I-Iggy... Arthur... I don't wanna..."

"I know."

"Can't you..."

"Alright, but just for a little while..."

* * *

The sound of many different voices was, as usual rather difficult to ignore in the crowded meeting room, but as he was used to it, Arthur calmly leant back in his chair and closed his eyes, humming silently to himself. Canada slowly walked over to him, a little hesitant; he hadn't seen Alfred arriving with the Englishman, and it made him feel a little worried.

"Uhm... E-England," he said slowly. "Do you know where Al is...? I mean... He hasn't shown up..."

Arthur looked up and smiled quickly; he looked rather tired, although still alert.

"He'll be here in a little while," he replied. "He wasn't feeling too well, but he did co-"

"_There_ you are, Arthur!" Ireland's arms were suddenly wrapped around his little brother in a tight hug. "I was wondering where you-"

Unfortunately, his greeting was cut off by a loud scream from Arthur, who quickly squirmed out of the hug, flew up, grabbed the chair and threw it at the Irishman, who stumbled backwards and fell over.

"Ow! What the hell, England?"

Other nations stared in surprise; Arthur stared at his brother for a moment, looking as if he had expected that it was someone else.

"S-Seamus," he stuttered. "You... You bloody idiot! Don't sneak up on me like that! What if I had held something sharp? How bloody stupid can you _get_?"

Seamus slowly got back up on his feet, groaning quietly; it wasn't as if he'd admit that it had hurt, but Arthur could get rather vicious when he was angry – or scared. Tentatively, he touched his ribs, wincing at the pain. Oh yes, that was going to leave a mark. But now, he pushed that aside, took a deep breath and yelled:

"What the bloody _fuck_ is wrong with you? I try to be friendly, and you throw a sodding _chair_ at me?"

Arthur took a step back and held up his hands; he hadn't meant to throw the chair, but his instincts had screamed at him to do something in order to protect himself, and he had reacted accordingly.

"Seamus, I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I really didn't mean to! You scared me!"

"I _scared_ you?" The Irishman waved his arms around as he spoke, his bushy eyebrows furrowing in anger. "Oh please, it was just a _hug_, for Lir's sake! Why the hell would that scare you?"

Any further argument was suddenly interrupted by Italy's voice outside the door.

"Ve~ America? Why are you hiding in that closet?"

Arthur groaned quietly, walked over and opened the door; sure enough, there was Alfred, stepping out from a closet with a bright blush spreading on his cheeks.

"N-no reason," he mumbled, attempting a sheepish smile. "Just... Uhm... Yeah, I don't know where I'm going with this, so... I'll just... go into the conference room now." He looked at Arthur and tilted his head. "Uh... Iggy... Was it you who screamed, or...?"

The Englishman rolled his eyes.

"Yes, it was," he replied. "Now get in here, your brother was worried about you."

"What, that's it? Do you have any idea how much that scream freaked me out?"

"I didn't even know that you were already here, you idiot."

Canada watched with a faint smile as his brother slowly came into the room; he was a little jumpy, and it was easy enough to guess why.

"So," he said. "You tried the game?"

Alfred nodded.

"And you asked Arthur to be there while you played?"

They both nodded.

"How do you feel?"

Alfred bit his lip.

"I don't really know whether I want to keep the lights on in my room or not," he admitted. "Partly, I keep thinking that something's there if it's dark, but partly, I worry about the light attracting those freaks."

Matthew chuckled and patted his shoulder.

"What about you, Arthur-san?" Kiku smiled as he looked at them. "How do you feel?"

Arthur sat down and leant back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I feel that Seamus is bloody lucky that I didn't try to kill him," he grumbled. "Also, the next person who decides to jump me without a warning ought to think twice, because I won't be so merciful next time."

"But you beat the game?"

The two glanced at each other.

"Well," Alfred said. "I guess we did. I mean... Uh..."

"I did," muttered Arthur, a slight smirk spreading on his lips. "He was too busy freaking out."

"Was not!"

"Don't make me show the marks on my arm, git."

"I could say the same to you!"

They glared at each other, and Francis, who was always eager to come with a solution, stepped forward.

"I have a proposal," he said. "From what I understand, you were both scared, so let us do it like this."

He took a deep breath and suddenly let out a loud roar, a sound that was oddly impressive for coming from him – and which was incredibly similar to what they had heard while playing the game. The reactions came quickly. Alfred shrieked and bolted for the door, and Arthur slid down from his chair and hid under the table. A moment later, the latter poked his head out from beneath the table and glared venomously at the Frenchman.

"I will murder you in your dreamless sleep," he hissed. "That was uncalled for!"

"France-san, you didn't need to do that," said Kiku carefully. "That game _is_ rather scary; you don't need to make it worse."

Francis only laughed and sat down, not even glancing at Arthur as he crawled out and got to his feet.

"I could not resist," he said in a sing-song voice. "Someone had to do it, and it seems that it had to be me."

Arthur cracked his knuckles, a malicious grin spreading on his lips; he had been looking for reasons to beat the frog up for some time, and here was the perfect one. Seamus glanced at his brother and raised an eyebrow, smirking playfully. There was no one in the room who would attempt to save the Frenchman from his old rival's wrath, as Matthew had gone to see where his brother had run off to.

"All yours, England," the Irishman said and stepped out of the way. "He had it coming."

Arthur didn't listen; he charged at Francis, who scrambled to get out of the chair and move away, even though he was well aware of how the Englishman's instincts and reflexes were more honed than his were, and that this gave him a certain advantage.

"It was worth it," he laughed when a firm calloused hand grabbed his throat and the other, clenched in a fist, came flying towards his face.


End file.
